


The Kingsman Bakery

by athletiger



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: 5+1 Fic, Angst, Crack, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Stress Baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 16:46:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4312680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athletiger/pseuds/athletiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A filler for Kingsman-dressing room 3 (prompt <a href="http://dressing-room3.livejournal.com/405.html?thread=721557#t721557">here</a>): "Being the handler and the go-to man when shit goes down, and recruit training could understandably pile on the stress for one person. </p><p>To combat his stress, Merlin bakes. </p><p>When he's pissed behind belief because James!Lancelot Did Something Stupid Again, Merlin throws a fit in the kitchen and makes macaroons. "</p><p> </p><p>The Kingsman Bakery is well-known for its quality cakes and cookies. It is also a well-known fact that it is owned by the tailor shop - although this fact was a bit strange, no one questions it, for most people are too busy stuffing their face with the delicious treats. However, only the Kingsman know who creates these treats and when he does it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kingsman Bakery

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't help myself, sorry. Some characters might be SLIGHTLY ooc, but I tried to keep them in their natural personalities - please let me know if some are too ooc :)
> 
> Cheers, I hope you like it!

The Kingsman Bakery is well-known for its quality cakes and cookies. It is also a well-known fact that it is owned by the tailor shop - although this fact was a bit strange, no one questions it, for most people are too busy stuffing their face with the delicious treats. However, only the Kingsman know who creates these treats and when they are created...

  1. Lancelot - James




Merlin swore that if he had to deal with Lancelot’s shenanigans next time he decided to improvise on a mission, Merlin is going to let him go on his own without a handler.

Lancelot had just dismantled a bomb in Egypt’s embassy, and now was fighting off the enemies.

“Take a left,” Merlin said in Lancelot’s ear. “ _TAKE A LEFT, dammit!_ ”

Of course, his shouts were all for naught, for Lancelot laughed him off and  bulldozed straight through the incoming combatants, stirring up a storm and missing the second intended escape route that Merlin had planned for him. Merlin groaned loudly in frustration, kneading the third stress ball this month as he watched Lancelot jab his gun into the stomach of a hostile.

“ _Are you a fucking idiot?_ ” Merlin was sorely tempted to bang his head on his desk, but that would ruin his image.

Lancelot chuckled. “I know you will still save my ass though.” He continued to decimate the incoming foes, leaving Merlin in his ear to grit his teeth at his antics.

“ _Doesn’t mean I have to like it_ ,” Merlin hissed back, setting down his worn stress ball and tapping on a few buttons to enter into the building’s control. With a few well-placed codes, he set off the fire alarm sprinklers, water flooding the room.

“You’re getting my suit wet!” Lancelot complained, fending off another two combatants. Thankfully, Lancelot had the foresight to steal...sorry, borrow, Galahad’s umbrella (Galahad was not happy when Lancelot took his favorite one), and Merlin watched the umbrella open before it left the visual. The rest of the combatants were given the shock of their life, literally, as the agent activated the signet ring and allowed it to fall into the water.

“Well-deserved. Extraction ETA two minutes. Get on the roof.”

Once Lancelot was safely back in the helicopter, Merlin got up from his seat, pacing back and forth in his room, before sighing in exasperation and heading towards the Kingsman kitchen.

Merlin’s gait was just a tad bit heavier as he walked into the kitchen. It was thankfully empty - everyone knew to steer clear away from the place when he was in one of his moods. Merlin grabbed his “anger” apron, bright red with flames licking the bottom, that expressed his current emotion.

In a flurry of de-stressing activity, Merlin grabbed the necessary materials from the cabinets and put them down on the kitchen counter with more force than necessary, but not enough to damage the equipment. He loudly cursed Lancelot six ways to hell as he whisked the sugar and almond flour together before he mixed the egg whites, tartar, and salt in another bowl. With a loud growl of frustration, he manhandled the materials, viciously mixing the two mixtures together and then folding it aggressively.

Baking was cathartic for Merlin. He slowly calmed down as he carefully added the food coloring and vanilla extract, mixing the color and flavour in well before he inserted it into the pastry bag and piped it on the baking sheet, letting it sit on the counter while it settled, making the filling in the meantime.

Merlin mixed jam and white chocolate while he added almond extract and red food colouring, stirring it well. Putting it aside, he finally placed the sheets in the oven, letting it bake while he cleaned up.

The oven dinged twenty minutes later, and Merlin put the finishing touches for the treat.

It was macaroon day - Lancelot’s favorite treat - and hell if he gets any. However, the rest of the Kingsman could have one; they behaved well today.

  1. Galahad - Harry




“Galahad can you hear me?" Merlin watched Harry's feed, worry laced in his tone. If he still had hair, he would have grabbed it in frustration as he watched Harry fire  into the crowd.

“Merlin, I’m fucked,” Harry answered breathlessly. The surrounding area was flooded with hostiles, and Harry had no way out.

“Percival and Bors are on their way, Galahad.” Merlin gripped the edge of his desk.

Harry growled. “There’s no _time_.”

Merlin’s fingers darted over the keyboard. “Give me a moment. I’m finding you an escape route.”

Harry exhaled harshly. “I’m surrounded.” As he said that, Harry ducked behind his umbrella and slowly retreated to keep his blind spot safe.

The hostiles closed in like swarms of flies Harry pulled out his lighter, and Merlin swore in fifteen different languages. Both of them knew that there was no time to get out of exploding range if Harry were to set that.

“Did you just swear at me in pig Latin?” Harry deadpanned.

Merlin ignored him, looking for an escape route...there!

“Four o’ clock, window,” Merlin said urgently to Harry.

Harry turned and dashed towards said route, letting go of the lighter as he clambered out. “Hurry the fuck up, Harry,” Merlin muttered. “It will set off any moment now.” The grenade set off just as Harry was outside, sending him flying.

At least Bors and Percival was there to give him medical attention. Merlin sighed.

Still stressed, Merlin headed towards the kitchen, putting on the purple apron that Harry gave to him as a gift four years ago before setting to work.

 

* * *

 

Harry woke up from his week-long coma to the smell of heavenly tiramisu. He licked his lips. _Dry_ , he noted distantly.

“Welcome back, you fucking idiot,” Merlin drawled. Harry tilted his head to see Merlin with bags in his eyes that matched the colour of his apron that he wore, and a warm batch of cake in his hand.

“Is that for me?” Harry rasped. Merlin smiled tiredly and promptly ignored his question.

“I’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

“Knowing you,” Harry replied. “You probably baked a batch of tiramisu every day until I woke up.”

The silence that ensued gave him the answer.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well...can I have a bite?”

Merlin gave him a look. “No.”

“But I’m your favorite agent.”

“And the most annoying one. I’ll let Medical clear you first before I let you have taste.”

Harry put on his most pitiful puppy face - the one that no one else sees but his best friend. “But Lancelot and Gawain will eat it all.”

Merlin sighed in exasperation, pulling the tray away from Harry’s reach. “No still means no, Harry.”

Harry groaned in reply.

  1. Gawain - Daisy




Merlin often hears the phrase “like father, like son” thrown around the hallways of the Kingsman headquarters. After all, Kingsman is filled with nepotism. However, Merlin is tempted to add “like sister, like brother,” for family at the Kingsman are similar in more than appearance.

Why did he declare this?

Merlin sat behind his desk, watching in helpless horror as he stared at the screen.

It was Gawain, Eggsy’s baby sister, following in his brother’s footsteps as she hijacked a car and hotwired it in less than thirty seconds flat - Merlin’s subconscious timed it. The impressive ability was not lost on him, but it was overruled by worry.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing?” Merlin raised his voice in horror. He was not screeching, nope. Definitely not screeching.

Gawain laughed. “Making my escape.” She pulled out of the parking lot with a jerk, running over some hostiles as she backed up, before pressing hard on the gas pedal, car screeching as it made its getaway from the people chasing the driver.

She collecting intel in Italy when local mafia found her. Luckily, she took a damn good car. It was even better when Merlin found out that she stole the car from the the target. However, it wasn’t so funny when he saw her pull stunts that he would normally attribute to her brother.

Merlin dared not blink because he feared for the smallest Unwin’s life as she drove down the countryside recklessly, pulling stunts as she evaded the enemies trying to detain her. He swore he almost got a heart attack when she drove the car straight into a rising lift bridge - she barely made it to the other side.

“Merlin, Arthur asked me to tell…” Eggsy barged into the room without knocking. “Is that my _baby sister_?”

She must have heard his incredulous statement over the comms because a moment later she retorted, “I ain’t no baby no more, bro. I’m a Kingsman agent.”

Merlin snapped out of his shock, abruptly standing up and forcing Eggsy to sit down in his place. “Take care of your idiot sister. Maybe she can listen to you.”

As Merlin left the room, he heard Eggsy shouting at his sister (“ _Slow the_ fuck _down! Your pursuers aren’t behind you anymore!_ ) and a screeching back ( _It’s like Fast and Furious, dammit! And it’s not like you didn’t do this before…_ )

He could feel the incoming headache, and he rubbed his temples. He really needs to tell Arthur not to ever have any more legacies - it’s too much work, and he’s not paid well-enough to deal with this shit.

Merlin blindly grabbed an apron as he walked past the rack, vaguely noticing that he picked the bright green one - the same color of the car that was just hijacked. He sighed, pulling up Gawain’s feed on the installed television in the kitchen in case she needed help. Currently, it seemed not the case though, for she was still having a yelling match with Eggsy, and Merlin lowered the volume.

Merlin set the oven before he sifted the flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, and cocoa powder in a bowl, and then mixed the oil, buttermilk, eggs, and vinegar together. He carefully poured the vanilla extract on a spoon before dropping into the bowl, and tilted the the red food coloring into the bowl. He stirred it well.

“Merlin?” Gawain’s voice directed over the comms. Merlin jerked up at his name.

“Gawain.”

Through the visual, he saw as the route that Gawain was going was cut off, and Gawain turned harshly around. Merlin dropped his spoon and picked up his clipboard.

“I’m on it.” Merlin pulled a map of the area on the screen, immediately looking at the possible escape routes.

“Head towards the trees.”

The tires screeched loudly as Gawain floored the gas pedal.

Merlin watched tensely as Gawain narrowly missed trees as she weaved through the forest, slowly but surely shaking off her tails. More than once Merlin believed that she would surely crash, but thankfully, it never happened.

Finally, she burst through the other side, skidding back on the road. “Thanks, Merlin.”

Merlin let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you back at home.”

“Gawain out.”

“Merlin out.”

Merlin breathed in deeply, forcibly calming his loudly-beating heart. After a moment, he turned around to see Harry lick the red velvet batter from the bowl.

“Harry! Stop licking my batter!”

He shrugged unapologetically. Merlin groaned - this is the Harry _he_ had to deal with when he’s not showing off to Eggsy.

  1. Galahad - Eggsy




“Oh no,” Merlin muttered to himself, watching the feed. “Hurry up Galahad, the world is going to shit if you don’t reach that plant soon!”

“I know, I know,” Eggsy replied, jerking a hard left as he wiped out a few of his pursuers. His motorcycle loudly revved as he pressed harder on the pedal, narrowly missing two pedestrians as he navigated his way through the streets of Paris. Behind him trailed the whole police department in a vain attempt to capture him.

It was, of course, another psychopathic maniac trying to kill off humanity. The vaccinations that were given out the week prior had a stagnant virus that would kill people when it was activated through electronic means.

Honestly, the aftermath was disgusting, even by Merlin’s standards, and there wasn’t much time left on the clock.

“Come on, come on. Hurry.”

“Bruv, I’m going my fastest,” Eggsy replied. “This thing ain’t gonna go any faster, and I’m hanging on my dear life as it is.”

And that motorcycle was going pretty damn fast, Merlin made sure of it - he was the one who upgraded it to its maximum potential, and he lent it to Eggsy for the mission. The rest of Eggsy’s pursuers have long been left to dust, and Eggsy sped through the desolate countryside.

“You better not crash it,” Merlin threatened.

Despite the gloominess of the situation, Eggsy had the audacity to laugh. “It will be the least of our worries if I crash it, guv.”

Merlin wouldn’t admit aloud, but he was secretly impressed at the speed that Eggsy was able to pull out of that beauty (and he was impressed at Eggsy being able to hold on). Thus, it wasn’t too long until the lab came in site.

“You have two minutes remaining, Galahad.”

“I’m on it bruv.” With that, Eggsy, without letting off the pedal, headed straight for the window that some idiot left open.

Merlin’s eyes widened at what Eggsy was about to do. “Galahad,” he started to warn, but it was too late.

Eggsy sent the bike flying into the window, his hair brushing the top and the wheels barely touching the bottom, and the bike crashed onto the table before it hit the floor, dragging wires and crushing glass as the bike went skittering on the floor. Eggsy was jolted off by the impact, and he landed hard on the sparking wires and crushed computer. It was a surprise that the glasses did not fly off of his face.

“Well, that’s one way to kill the signal,” Merlin said.

Eggsy did not reply.

“Galahad?” Merlin called. The other side was silent. “ _Galahad!_ ”

Merlin swore, hacking into the laboratory’s camera - which were state-of-the-art, Merlin noted distantly, and he saw Eggsy’s prone body lying on the ground. At another screen, he noticed men in lab coats making their way towards the wreck. Fuck.

“Galahad!” he practically yelled. This time he got a response.

“Hunngghhh.”

“Get up,” Merlin all but commanded, and he saw that Eggsy’s body instinctively obey. Eggsy’s mind, though, was another matter.

“Can you hear me?”

It took five long seconds, enough time for the scientists to reach the door, before Eggsy rasped out, “Yea.”

“Get out,” was all Merlin was able to say when the door opened ominously.

And then disaster struck.

It all happened so fast that Merlin was unable to comprehend what just happened until the aftermath took place. Eggsy’s glasses recorded the explosion that took place as the computer that Eggsy had rammed into, thought to be dead, self-destructed into a massive fireball. The screen went black when the heat hit Eggsy’s glasses. Merlin stared at the screen for a moment, dumbstruck, before his fingers snapped to action, rapidly clicking on the keyboard as Merlin brought up Eggsy’s tracker and vitals. Nothing came up.

Merlin leaned forward, hands perched in a prayer position, as he felt inexplicable sadness for losing yet another agent.

The kitchen would be a good place to be, and Merlin walked over there, gait heavy and dragging. He picked the black apron, putting it on as he pulled himself over to the fridge, picking out the freshest fruit from the bowl. He set it on the counter and set to work on Eggsy’s favorite treat.

 

* * *

 

Harry sat at the head of the table, hand loosely wrapped around the shot of 1815 Napoleonic Brandy. Everyone sat at their spots at the table. The only other one who was physically there was Lancelot, and Merlin sat at the end of the conference table. The seat at Arthur’s right hand sadly remained empty.

Merlin could hear the emotional turmoil as Harry began speaking to the rest of the knights. “Today, we lost a valuable Kingsman agent, one Galahad.” Merlin could see the valiant effort on Harry’s part not to break down in front of the rest of his agents. Arthur cleared his throat. “Thus, let us toast in his honor for his invaluable service to the Kingsman. To Galahad.”

The rest of the knights lifted their shots. “To Galahad.”

“We will start admissions for the position of Galahad at nineteen hundred in two days. Please bring your candidate no later than the date.”

With the final statement, the virtual knights flickered out as one. Once they had disappeared, Harry brought his hands to his eyes. “Yet another one is gone. What am I going to say to Michelle.”

Roxy, dear her, although her face streaked with tears, said, “I’ll do it.”

Harry shook his head. “I can’t let you…”

“Arthur,” Roxy interrupted. “Eggsy was my friend as well. It’s okay, I’ll go do it.”

Merlin watched the interaction sadly, before he brought out small boxes with forks on them. He passed one to Roxy and another to Harry. He kept a third for himself.

“Eggsy loved fruit tarts, so I made them in his honor,” Merlin explained, opening up his box. He picked up his fork. “It’s much too bad that…”

“Sorry I’m late, I got stuck in traffic coming here.” The door suddenly opened, and the three turned towards the voice in shock. Eggsy leaned against the doorframe, pale and dirty, but alive. He peered closer. “Is that fruit tart?”

Eggsy walked over to the stunned Harry, glancing at Merlin’s and Roxy’s boxes. “So, these are fruit tarts. I assume that ya made ‘em, Merlin?”

Picking up the fork that Harry had dropped on the table when Eggsy first walked in, he stabbed it into the dessert and took a bite. “Mmm, these are good. You should make ‘em more often.”

Needless to say, Eggsy got reprimanded harshly by the three after they snapped out of their shock.

  1. Lancelot - Roxy




It was Valentine’s Day, and Merlin was in the kitchen as he waited for Roxy to check in. He had a blood-red apron as he slowly melted 72% dark chocolate in the heating pan. Just to the side was the cream, sitting in a bowl on the counter.

The chocolate was almost all melted when Roxy turned on the comms. “Lancelot here,” Roxy said. Merlin took a moment to pull up her feed as he kept one eye on the pan - after all, it wouldn’t be good if the chocolate were to scald.

She sat at a shady bar at some location in the Netherlands, sipping a martini on the rocks as she kept one eye on her target. Merlin had pulled out the target’s file, glancing over it quickly before, minimizing it: male, middle-aged, slave trader. It was a honeypot mission: seduce the target and wipe him out for the crimes he had done.

“Hello, Lancelot,” Merlin replied. He pulled the pan off the fire, letting it cool just a little bit.

Through the contacts Merlin made especially for her - it may not be as good for continual feed as the glasses, but there were a few extra gadgets in it - he saw as the target made eye contact with Lancelot, smirking as he casually strolled over.

“You’re a pretty bird, ain’cha?” the target slurred, sitting haphazardly down next to her. Merlin saw the nearly imperceptible flinch - a slight jar in the feed - as she answered back, “I aim to please.”

“You are a lovely sight, aren’t you?” Merlin murmured to her, picturing the skimpy dress that he made for her, outfitted with the Kingsman’s weapons. He whisked the cream into the cooling chocolate, adding a dash of excellent wine from his secret stash that even Harry didn’t know he had.

“Can I help you?” Lancelot said coyly. “You know, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

Merlin smiled. “And Happy Valentine’s Day back at you. I have a treat for you when you return.” He put the mixture in the fridge before sitting on a seat in the dining room area.

The target smiled grotesquely. “Are you suggesting something?”

“Maybe.” Merlin saw as Lancelot took another sip of her drink. “Have you ever done body shots?”

The target smiled, jerking his head to the left. Lancelot brought the feed to the direction of his jerk, where Merlin saw several couples play the game. “Of course. It’s the most popular game here.”

“We should do it sometime,” Merlin said more to himself than to Lancelot.

“I usually dislike getting dirty,” Roxy admitted, slowly scraping a finger down the target’s arm. “But I’ll do it just for you.”

His grin grew even wider. Merlin hummed. “I appreciate your sentiment, but I can see your point. We could always do the other game.”

Roxy’s dress covered the video feed as she took off her dress before she leaned against the counter. Merlin could hear the grin as she asked the target, “Shall we?”

“Why not?”

Merlin pulled out the chocolate from the fridge, keeping an eye on the screen and watching as the target licked a small strip on Roxy’s leg before pouring salt on it. As Merlin rolled up the chocolate into small circular balls, the target licked the salt and sipped a green drink - tequila, Merlin’s mind supplied - before taking a wedge of lime out of her mouth.

“So tell me,” Roxy said. “What do you do for a living?”

Apparently the target’s tongue was quite loosened from the drink he had and the ones prior to meeting Lancelot.

“You wouldn’t believe wha’ I do,” he replied, moaning as Lancelot took a body shot on him. “I’m a businessman.”

“A dishonest one, ain’cha?” Roxy leaned back, letting the target lick her arm.

“Nah,” the target replied. He was slurring more and more now. Merlin scraped the last of the chocolate from the bowl, and then he started rolling each ball into the cocoa powder.

Roxy sat up. “You’re a slave trader, Mr. Jack Smith.”

The target jerked back as the words hit him, and he tried to flee, but Roxy had him in a death grip, and she dragged him out of the club into the dark alleyway next to the bar. “We don’t normally deal with slave trades, Mr. Smith, but you are always just under the radar of the rest of the spy organizations.”

Mr. Smith tried to punch Roxy, but she blocked him easily. “Who’reyou?”

“Your death bringer.” At the ominous words, the target’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed. Merlin heard her breathe a sigh of relief. “Merlin, thanks so much for the slow-acting poison.”

Merlin smiled. “You’re welcome, my dear.”

Roxy left the alleyway, walking casually away from the corpse. “So, what are you gonna give me today?”

“It’s a surprise.” Merlin packed several chocolate truffles in the heart shaped box and closed the lid.

“It’ll be good, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course, dear. See you at home.”

+1 Merlin

Merlin burrowed his face against his pillow, trying futilely to ignore his ringing phone. It was his birthday, for fuck’s sake, can’t a chap sleep in? He even came back home to sleep in a rare moment that he was given the chance to leave the compound.

Nope. The Kingsman-issued phone rang loud and clear, the annoying tone echoing through the room. Merlin grumbled, blindly reaching for the phone. It took him a few pats on the bedside table before his fingers clenched around it. He gave the offending object a glare before he put it to his ear.

“Merlin here.”

“We have a crisis.” Arthur’s voice had the urgent undertone that made Merlin snap awake and sit up.

“All right, I will be there in fifteen,” he replied, putting on his slippers.

Had he pressed the “end call” button a second later, he would have heard the giggles in the background. As it is, Merlin failed to hear it, and so he rushed out of the house, no less impeccably dressed, but a bit more rushed as he entered into the Kingsman-issued taxi.

The halls were suspiciously empty as Merlin walked down the corridors of the headquarters, and Merlin raised an eyebrow when he failed to hear any sound. The headquarters was never empty like this before - there was always at least a staff on duty all twenty-four hours of the day.

His oxfords were loud against the tiled floor as he walked down the silent corridors. Finally, he reached his room, hand hovered the door handle. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened the door.

He entered to a chorus of “Happy Birthday"s.

He looked on in horror as he saw his room decorated in gaudy paper decorations, brightly colored streamers strewn across the room, and almost all of the Kingsman agents sitting in the room.

He was not impressed.

“Get out.” His voice was dangerously flat. Hearing the threat in the tone, the agents fled his room. When the last agent (minus Roxy, who can pretty much get away with anything when it came to dealing with Merlin) exited, Merlin closed the door, pinching the bridge of his nose at the feeling of an oncoming migraine.

At least his desk was untouched, except for a lone box placed in front of his keyboard. Merlin approached it with slight hesitance, before he opened it. Inside was a beautifully made New York cheesecake, and the lid had a “Happy Birthday, Merlin! I hope you enjoy your favorite treat! xoxo, Eggsy, Roxy, and Harry.”

Merlin smiled slightly. He knew that his Roxy couldn’t cook for her life, and Harry would rather burn down the kitchen before he made anything for him, so that left Eggsy. Roxy walked over to his chair and wrapped her arms around him.

"He made it this morning," she casually commented.

He took a small scoop and savored it. "It's good," he admitted, offering a bite to her. "But don't tell him that." 

Her laughter made him smile. "Happy Birthday, Merlin."

 

 


End file.
